Vulnerable
by theywillneverknow
Summary: L/J One-shot. A slightly angsty look at how James might have found out about Lily's pregnancy. Inspired by the song 'Vulnerable' by Secondhand Serenade.


_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it._

_Another L/J one-shot (I know, I know I should branch out) written whilst listening to 'Vulnerable' – Secondhand Serenade. A slightly angsty exploration of how James might have found out about Lily's pregnancy. Just a drabble-y type thing that came to my head. Beware: rambling._

Vulnerable

James Potter had a distinctly soft spot for his wife so it was with something akin to mild worry that he watched her shaking as a bundle beneath several blankets.

"Lil?"

The shaking, if anything, increased and a hiccup fell from the quilts.

"Are you crying?"

"N-no." Another hiccup.

'_That's a yes then.'_

This was not the sight that James Potter had been expecting upon return from the Order de-briefing that he and Sirius had been called to. In fact, he had been half hoping to come home to the smell of lasagne or shepherd's pie or some dish equally as tantalising. This thought, of course, had led him away from anything remotely to do with food and entirely to do with his young bride. Clearly, this was not on the cards at any time in the near future. Undoing the clasp of his robe he dropped it unceremoniously to the floor and continued to perch on the edge of the bed cautiously. He reached a tentative hand out to stroke the flaming red hair that was poking out from the blankets. The moment his skin came in contact with her head he felt the tension leave her body and her grip on the quilt weakened. It was at this point he became acutely aware of the cold temperature of the room.

"Move up, woman. It's cold out here."

She did not roll to face him but simply let go of the blankets completely. He took the chance to clamber underneath and inched closer to her until he was completely pressed against her shuddering body. She did not pull away so James used the opportunity to wrap his arms around her in, what he hoped was, a comforting embrace. Kissing the back of her head he remained silent for some time. Occasionally Lily would get like this and there were three reactions that he had become accustomed to adopting.

The first would be to leave her alone for fear of physical injury; he still had a scar from when she had chucked a book at him and it had caught him in the shin. Generally, she would let him know when this was an acceptable response quite clearly, usually in the form of swearwords.

The second was to prepare a Pepper-up potion for the next morning because she could consume Firewhiskey to an extent that had impressed even Sirius. He had seen her get to this state a handful of times and, as a general rule, it was whenever a member of the Order went 'missing in action' which everyone knew meant dead. The worst had been the time she had been forced to write the 'black letter' which Dumbledore sent to the families of the deceased. She had been the only one in Headquarters and, when given the address, she nearly passed out. _Marlene. _How was she supposed to write a letter of condolence to her best friend's family? The mother that had welcomed her into her house over the summer holidays? The brother that had had a pre-pubescent crush on her since she had first popped round to visit? James assumed she felt much better after getting blind drunk and throwing up on her favourite pair of shoes because she never mentioned the incident again.

And the third way to deal with a distraught Lily was to remain quiet and simply offer her a shoulder to cry on and be her rock. If she wanted to talk, she would in the end and James was not willing to push whilst she was this upset. A particularly violent shudder brought him back to the present and the longer she remained quiet the more unease he felt. Had someone else died? _RemusSiriusPeter? _Panic flitted briefly though his mind and he felt his arms tense around her waist as cold fingers of suspicion slid down his spine. He suppressed a shiver and pressed his lips to the back of her neck in a soft caress.

He wished so desperately that she would just talk to him. The suspense at moments like this hurt so much more than the actual knowledge. Worst case scenarios ran around in his mind, his imagination taunting him until he could feel it squeezing his heart with cruel vindictiveness. '_Sirius has been captured. Voldemort killed Lily's family. No. She doesn't love you anymore. She's cheated. She's cheated with Sirius. LilySirius. LilySirius'. _And as sudden as it had come it was over because he knew, he _knew, _that Sirius and Lily loved him too much to do that and sometimes he felt ashamed that the nasty, little voice in the back of his mind could manipulate him that easily and, too, he felt like he had somehow betrayed Lily and Padfoot for even thinking, in his darkest hours, that they were somehow possible of such an act.

He felt, rather than heard, a sigh ease from her lips as a shuddering breath. Her shaking body slowly calmed and she relaxed into his embrace, as she always did. Sinking, sinking into those arms that offered absolute security, absolute love and could never be questioned. A calm, so pure that she could not define it, washed over her body and she was barely aware of whispering anything until she felt him tense.

"I'm pregnant."

Nothing could have prepared him for that piece of information.

"What?"

He could not have possibly heard her properly. Pregnant? Lily? There was just no way. His entire body tensed as the information actually processed. Pregnant, as in a baby. _Their _baby. A tremor worked its way up his spine and he could feel his lips twitching, unbidden, into an excited grin. How long had he dreamt about this moment; the moment when Lily was carrying his child? And how many times throughout his teenage years had that seemed like an impossible dream? Too many. Memories, or visions, or some intangible thing swam before his eyes. Images of boys and girls that had features from both of them; her red hair and his quirky grin, or his gangly height and her straight, aquiline nose. Suddenly, from the sea of hazy children that swam before his mind, a boy rose above the rest; one that looked almost exactly like him but James could feel his breath catch as he caught sight of those glorious eyes. _Just like his mother._ He could not remember ever feeling so much joy in his entire existence with the exception of proposing to Lily. He nuzzled his face into her hair and let out a soft laugh. It was then that he realised she was shaking again. His whole body went cold as he prayed to any deity that was listening that they were tears of joy and not what he feared.

"Lily, what's wrong?" Sickness washed over him as he braced himself for the answer to his next question. "Do you not..not..do you not-"

He could not finish for she had rolled over and cradled herself in his arms, her face wet and soaking through his shirt to the warm skin beneath. He was so warm and reassuringly _there _that she felt the desire to weep all over again. Her small hands clutched at his shirt as she nestled further into his embrace feeling like her heart was going to burst. Could he not tell what was wrong? Did he really have to ask? Here they were, in the middle of a war that they were slowly but surely losing, and she was going to give birth to some poor, unsuspecting child that could be orphaned at any minute? Was she really that heartless? The answer would not come to her, eluding her grasp each time she tried to reach out and obtain it; teasing her just beyond her futile reach. Did she really want to know the answer anyway? Her head buzzed with questions that she could not seem to answer, or did not want to, and she saw black dots blur her vision. A wave of dizziness struck her and she whimpered whilst clinging to James even tighter.

"James, I'm scared."

The whisper issued against his skin tugged on his heartstrings, and like always she was the puppet master and he was dancing on wires. Even when she was reduced to this weakened, bawling mess she always had the power in the relationship and right now, he didn't think he'd even seen her so beautifully pathetic. She could have asked for the world and he would have delivered it to her or died trying. He rubbed consoling circles on her back as he struggled not to choke on his words, searching for the phrase that would not make her dissolve into tears again.

"I know."

Her face tilted up to his and he got his first glimpse of her tear stained face. How long had she been curled up like this before he arrived? She gazed at him, piercing his very soul with those incredible eyes. He met her unwaveringly and was unnerved at his uncanny ability to interpret each emotion as it flashed in the depths of those enchanting irises; sadness, shame, fear, confusion, love but when anger flashed he was surprised.

"Are you scared?"

He paused, still staring straight at her and unwilling to look away and admit defeat. He knew what she wanted to hear, instinctively almost, but he had never lied to her and he wasn't going to start when it concerned their unborn child. A spark of electricity flew down his arms to his fingertips just at the thought of _their _child, not just some fictitious thing he used to dream about when he was 16 but a real, living thing that was growing as they spoke. Finally he blinked and released the breath he wasn't aware he had been holding.

"No."

"You liar."

He was shocked and glanced down at her, her milky complexion slowly reddening as her fear transformed into anger. Unsure what to do with a volatile wife lying in his arms, he wisely remained silent and watched her calmly, lovingly as she worked herself up into a state that could only be described as near-madness. And yet she did not remove herself from his arms. Her eyes narrowed into slits and he prepared himself for the onslaught that was bound to be hurled his way simply because he was the only one there that she could relinquish her anger on. He had never once complained about being her punching bag, namely because he had the ultimate privilege of this private eruption that no one else ever saw and, somehow, in some sick, twisted, sadist way that burst of emotion linked him to her in a way that nobody else could compete with.

And, Merlin, Lily Potter was hot when she was mad.

"Don't you lie to me James Potter." Her voice was a deathly whisper, the assonance of it reminding him all too much of a snake.

"I'm not lying, Lily." His voice was an infuriating mixture of pity, love and contempt and it only served to fuel her anger. She could see in his eyes that she had hurt him by sobbing over this unborn thing inside of her. That he had thought it a blessing not a curse. "I've always wanted children with you. I just-." She cut across him by thumping him in the chest with surprising violence.

"You are scared. I can feel your hands shaking. You're just as scared as I bloody am and you damn well know it."

"I'm not. I'm excited. I've always wanted a big family, Lils. Maybe the timing is a bit off, and I know it's a dangerous time to bring a child into the world. And yes, I know we're not really prepared for children at the moment but I don't care!"

Her voice was cold and detached as she replied.

"You never do."

That stung. He leaned back from her slightly and let his shoulders drop in submission.

"I just...I want to have kids with you, Lils. It would mean the world to me to have a son or daughter. Especially with you. Only with you."

Her glare intensified and he fought the urge to shy away from those red-hot, branding eyes. He would not flinch.

"You don't want this anymore than I do so just stop fucking pretending you do!"

He gasped involuntarily and recoiled. Physically pulling away from her, the protective circle of his arms broke around her. Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes doubled in size.

"I didn't...I don't..." Her eyes shone with unshed tears and, as broken as she looked, he couldn't bring himself to hold her again for several minutes. It felt like she had punched him in the stomach. She really didn't _want _this? She wasn't just scared she was terrified. She tried to snuggle back into his arms but he could only hold her weakly, reeling from her confession.

"You don't...you don't want children? At all?" He asked as a whisper that was almost lost in the bed covers. Her anger seemed to have disappeared and she sagged in his arms, the strength of her emotions exhausting her. She always did hate fighting with him.

"No I just...I don't know. I feel like...now is just not a good time." There was a moment of horrible indecision where both of them wanted to speak but could not wrap their minds around the right words to voice what they wanted to say. "I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

It was quiet and muffled but James still heard it and tugged her closer to him, fully enclosing her in the ring of his arms. He sighed into her hair as she rested her face in the crook of his neck, kissing the pulse point just once. He forgave her instantly, did not even need the apology, and yet he was grateful that she had spoken the words aloud for reasons unknown, even to him.

"How are you so strong?" Her words latched onto his skin and he resisted the urge to make some joke about working out. "How can you always be so sure that everything will work out in the end?" She didn't seem to require an answer so he settled for stroking her hair that was gradually becoming more mussed from his ministrations. The seriousness of the situation struck him and he knew he had to ask her something but did not know how much he would regret it as soon as the syllables left his lips.

"We're keeping it, right?"

Her head shot up instantly and a hurt look was plastered over her features. She sat up completely, the covers sliding off her shoulders as she did so. He reached up to tug her back down but she scooted out of his reach.

"Is that really what you think of me?" Her voice was a terrifying mixture of hurt, sadness and betrayal. He could not bear to look at her eyes that had darkened in pain and he realised, instantly, how badly he had wounded her. "You think that just because I'm scared, I'd destroy our child?" He felt guilt bubble up in his throat which soon transformed into irritation.

"What am I supposed to think when you're in here practically hysterical because you're pregnant?! I'm not exactly about to have a celebratory baby shower with Sirius am I?" His voice was harsher than he expected it to be and it caused her to leap off the bed with catlike grace as she began to stalk from the room. He was faster and managed to grab her hand before she could reach the door. He swung her around to face him.

"Lily, slow down." She looked up at him, her gaze uncertain and he saw that she really was just a scared 19 year old walking a thin line between what she wanted to do and what she thought she should do. Damn it all to hell, he wasn't going to let time dictate his life to him. No, damn it, he wasn't going to let some insane prick with a wand rule his life. Voldemort had already affected normal peoples' everyday life, James wasn't about to decide whether he should have children based on that monster. James' other hand reached to stroke his wife's face tenderly and she reached up on her tiptoes to meet him in an inevitable kiss that had been brewing since he had first entered the room. They broke apart and he couldn't stop the small smile that crept onto his lips.

"Lily, I love you so much, I can't even tell you. And I know this isn't the best time to start a family but I don't think there will be for a long time; the war doesn't look to be ending any time soon. And I would just hate to look back and think 'what if?' and I just –." She cut him off by placing a finger on his lips.

"I know, James, I know. I'm sorry for scaring you. It was...just a shock." A smile graced her face and he was grateful for the change of emotion. "So, boy or girl then you reckon?" He laughed and pulled her to him once more. Breathing in the scent of her hair he wondered if he could fall in love with her anymore than he already had. His thoughts scattered as her arms slid around his neck and a line from a song he had heard on the radio suddenly floated into his mind unexpectedly.

"Have I ever told you that I was born to love you?"

He was drawing inspiration from a song on the radio; how pathetic, how cliché how very _them _somehow.

~*~ End ~*~


End file.
